


Chiaroscuro

by aurguries



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, tw: mentions of attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26423644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurguries/pseuds/aurguries
Summary: Like he was some god, and you, his faithful apostle.
Relationships: Mark Jefferson/Original Character(s), Mark Jefferson/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Chiaroscuro

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve always wanted to write something for mark jefferson mainly bc his character seems so interesting to explore, but i’ve constantly been putting it off. so this is me finally trying my hand at it heh. note that i’m not condoning his actions in lis!! other than that, enjoy x

“You really mean that, Mr. Jefferson?”

You look up at him, eyes wide and hopeful. The sight tugs at his heart, the beauty of innocence always does, and he knows it will cling onto him until he sees you again. Mark is already imagining you all splayed out on white, bared honest for him to devour with his camera lens. It would be a masterpiece. _You_ would be his masterpiece. Not Kate, not Max. You.

“I _do_ ,” he tells you firmly, but not unkindly, knowing it’s what you so desperately want to hear, especially from him. You practically worship the ground he walks on; all aspiring photographers do. But while he’s willing to do his job for the rest of the Blackwell students, for you, he’ll go the extra mile. Innocence can wither easily without proper care. You need help, _his_ help in realising that you’re talented enough. You need _him_ to help you overcome your fatal flaw as a photographer — your reluctance to put your work out there. And Mark is more than happy to assist.

“Now, I know I’m not supposed to say this because I’m not supposed to play favourites,” Mark smirks, “but you’re extremely talented, ____.” Your cheeks immediately flush at hearing this and he soaks it all up. _Beautiful_. It encourages him to go on, gesturing to the portfolio hugged tight against your chest. “You just have to get in the habit of putting your work out there on your own. I’m not going to be here forever to give you the push you need.”

“I know Mr. Jefferson, I just …”

You sigh, and he watches you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you mull over your thoughts, brows knitted. He lets the silence stretch on a little longer in order to give you the time you need to get your bearings together while allowing his eyes to linger on the flesh being chewed upon.

Meeting you like this, at night, in the school parking lot of all places — people might talk. He shouldn’t have indulged himself in inviting you out here tonight to take a look at your portfolio as a “last minute thing”. But he had to meet up with Victoria anyway, who demanded his presence and then tried to blackmail him.

 _Stupid bitch_.

He _was_ furious, but the sight of you in the parking lot was enough to make up for all the shit that happened today. He noticed how you had your portfolio tucked against your chest, shivering slightly under a street light as you glanced nervously around your surroundings with that doe eyed look you always wore in his class. It was enjoyable, seeing you like that, unaware that you were being watched. Almost as enjoyable as having you look at him the way you always do. Like he was some _god_ and you, his faithful apostle.

“You just …?” he prods.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, divulging this piece of information rather shyly almost like it’s something sacred. It makes him feel just a little bit special. After all, you’re a quiet little thing, quieter than Max, especially in his class where he does his utmost to coax students into participating. You hardly ever do though. But hearing you say this right here, right now — that out of all the things that should matter to you as an artist, his approval is something you value above them all — especially with that _face_ … 

_Christ._

He chuckles, “Well, I’m _flattered_. But you don’t ever have to worry about disappointing me, ____. That photo you just showed me, the one you want to submit for the Everyday Heroes contest, well, let’s just say you have a bright future ahead of you in photography. I’m glad you came to see me today.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jefferson,” you murmur, fingers playing with the edge of the portfolio, face lighting up. “For what it’s worth, _you’re_ my Everyday Hero.”

He laughs. “ _Thank you_ , ____.”

You offer him a sympathetic smile. “It still sucks that you got kicked out of the contest.”

“Yes, it does suck. But I’m sure Max had her reasons.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, frowning slightly. “I’m sure she did.”

“Are you two close?” he inquires casually, very much hoping the opposite. Max already blames him for what happened with Kate. Who knows what she might say to you? He won’t kid himself. When it comes to trusting him or Max, you’re more likely to be on her side. After all, she was the one who saved Kate, not him. And if you found out he made Kate cry … he just can’t afford to let that happen. It would ruin everything, and he’s worked too hard to get here with you.

“I like to think so,” you respond distractedly. “But she hasn’t told me anything about what actually happened with Kate, and I don’t blame her. What happened was so surreal that I still can’t believe it did.”

“Me too, ____. Me too,” he frowns. “If I had known what Kate was going through, what she was planning to do, I would have stepped in.”

“I know,” you assure him before lapsing into silence, and he watches your gaze fall to the ground. This _is_ affecting you, he realises. In some personal way that you’re not telling him. Mark feels a growing resentment at this. What _are_ you keeping from him?

“Hey, you alright?” He chuckles. “You seem a little pale.”

You force a smile, brushing off his concerns. “Yeah. You know, it’s late, maybe I should get going now. I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I already feel so bad about meeting up late like this, and I don’t know what I’m going to do if Mr. Madsen catches me out of my dorm at this hour.”

“Let me handle David Madsen. You don’t have to feel bad about anything. Not with me.”

You nervously sneak a look up at him and he takes a step closer to where you stand, just enough to leave a small gap between the both of you. Your cheeks flush slightly, and you seem eager not to look him in the eye, but the minute he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, the touch causes your gaze to shoot up and meet his. You look startled, and he lulls his voice into a gentler tone, perhaps to calm you into submission.

“You know you can come to me if there’s anything on your mind, right?”

You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off with a wave of his other hand.

“I know there’s counsellors available for this kind of thing, and you can always go to them for help, but …” He sighs. “Well, what I’m _trying_ to say here is, I understand the situation you’re in. Kate was my student just as she was your classmate. Though I may not know the full story, I know just enough to listen. If you need me, I’m here.” He allows his hand to boldly slide down your arm, holding back a smirk when he saw you shiver. “ _Okay_?”

You nod slowly.

“ _Okay_ , Mr. Jefferson.”

He flashes you a kind smile before turning on his heel towards his car, calling out to you to be safe on the way back to the dorm, along with a small reminder to use his name if you run into any trouble with David Madsen. Mark doesn’t like the thought of David barking at you like you’re one of his soldiers. You frighten easily, and you’re much too fragile for most of the words contained in Madsen’s vocabulary.

More importantly though, you’re not his to break down.

And as Mark Jefferson drives off into the night, he indulges himself with just another peek at you from his rear-view mirror, observing that you’re still standing where he left you, the sight of you bathed in light and dark making for an excellent visual representation of his topic in class today. And somehow, out of all the things that happened in his lecture today, the only thing he can remember from it right now is the curve of your lips and those _wide_ eyes of yours as you hung onto his every word. It almost makes him want to lecture on chiaroscuro again.

Lips twist into a smirk and hands tighten their grip on the steering wheel.

In fact, if you want him to, he can teach you _so much_ else.


End file.
